The Legend of La Llorona
by Fanfic Fish
Summary: The Winchester brothers stumble into a town where men are being drowned in a Lake that holds dark secrets to a miserable past. Will Dean be able save his baby brother or will the sinister waters get to him first? Find out!
1. Finding Trouble

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these Characters . . . except for the ones you don't recognize. The 'Supernatural' case that the brother's are going to try and solve was said to be real, and I do not own that either, I am just borrowing it for this story.

This story may seem familiar in the first few chapters, but assure you . . . that is not the case.

Enjoy:

* * *

"Ouch!" Sam Winchester groaned as something jabbed his ribs. He opened his eyes to reveal his older brother Dean grinning sheepishly at him. His eyes wandered around, and he realized he had fallen asleep in his brother's beloved car.

It had been nothing short of a miracle that Sam had actually fallen asleep with band 'Black Sabbath' blaring loudly throughout the night. Although, hearing his brother singing along was much worse than just plain listening to the loud music.

He hated the nights like that; he had to sleep in that stuffy leather seated death trap. That's how it seemed seeing as Dean's safety zone was above seventy miles per hour, in a thirty-five mile per hour zone. Event the crap hotels were better than this, at least there was a chance that he'd get to sleep on a soft mattress, with a fluffy pillow. Nope. All he was left with was his horribly out of tune older brother, and a crick in his neck.

Rolling his eyes Sam sat up strait and grabbed the plastic cup filled of coffee from the extended hand that belonged to his brother.

"Jesus bro, I wouldn't be surprised if every Windigo in the country heard you snoring last night," Dean grinned widely, knowing that his statement was a rather corny one, but a true one. Luckily for them both, after Sam had fallen asleep and Dean turned down 'Drowning Felicity' his baby brothers snores had kept him awake.

"Ha," Sam quipped sarcastically before taking a big whiff of his coffee. Ah yes, the scent of the gods flittered into his nose and smiled broadly before taking a sip. He looked over to his brother, whose eyebrows were high on his forehead, and a look of complete confusion. "What?" the youngest Winchester asked.

Dean's face scrunched up, contemplating how he should hold the new revelation over his baby brother's head. "Oh nothing . . . it's just that I was afraid you were going to try and make love with your coffee." The oldest brother held an expression of triumph on his face when he heard his brother mumble something like, 'thinks he can push me around.'

"How long have I been out?" Sam asked, relieved that for once nightmares didn't plague his dreams. He missed Jessica, and it was heart wrenching when he had to stare into those bright blue eyes every time he closed his own.

"Only a few hours," Dean replied. The two brothers lapsed into silence, and Dean kept his tired eyes on the road. It was dark out, and around three a.m. "Since dad hasn't sent me any new coordinates, I thought we'd go looking for trouble on our own . . . sound good?" Dean asked trying to suppress his worry for his father for not contacting him for a while.

A light chuckle answered him. "Pull over Dean," Sam all the sudden answered.

Dean fought valiantly not to look worried as he glanced over at his brother. "What's wrong, are you sick?" When his baby brother didn't answer him, he pulled over.

"Switch me spots," Sam told him.

The older Winchester fought hard not to smack Sam in the back of the head. _You scared the hell out of me Sammy,_ Dean's mind screamed out. His face turned to stone and he glared over at his brother. "I'm fine _Sammy_," Dean taunted with Sam's childhood pet name.

"It's _Sam,_ and no your not, if you keep driving we're both gonna end up dead in a ditch come the morning. You need sleep, and I just got some. It would be better . . . and no doubt _safer_, if I drove," Sam explained.

"Funny, we've faced Windigo's, a deranged Hook man, thousands of feisty little bugs, not to mention a very pissed of asylum doctor, and your worried about _me _driving?" The sarcasm was thick within Dean's voice.

"Believe me Dean, your driving scares me more than any of those things ever could," Sam's friendly jest earned him a glared, and a light punch on the shoulder. But he had won out when Dean let out an annoyed gargle and got out of the car to switch places.

"You don't even know where we're going Sammy," Dean complained.

"Didn't you just say we were gonna drive until we found trouble? Clearly it doesn't matter where we're headed," Sam growled.

When Dean didn't answer, Sam looked over to find his brother fast asleep.

* * *

The two brothers' sat quietly in the booth at 'Margaret's Diner.' Dean was staring fixedly at the newspaper he held, trying to find the next location for them to obliterate evil. "Sam, I found something . . . Sammy?" Dean looked up from the paper to his brother's head lying across his arms on the ugly table.

Reaching over, Dean flicked Sam's ear, elicting a yelp and a startled jump from the just barely awake young man.

"What the hell was that for?" Sam growled.

"I found our next playground Sammy," Dean chirped. He handed over the newspaper to his brother, who took it and read the headline.

'Livingston: **Body of a twenty year old male found in the La Llorona Lake.' **Sam read on further.** Sixth body found at the lake in two months, the investigations continue, but no suspects have been charged or found guilty.** Sam looked up at his brother questioningly, "This doesn't sound odd, it could just be some psycho murderer."

Dean rolled his eyes and let out an exasperated sigh. "Oh come on, you do this to me all the time . . . besides this could lead to something more . . . maybe it is something out of the ordinary, maybe not. Besides, there isn't anything normal a psycho killer drowning people in a lake."

Sam was at loss for words, after what had happened a few months ago . . . how that little boy had almost drowned in that damned lake because of his grandfather's stupidity . . . why would he want to go doing this again?

"Fine," was the answer.

* * *

TBC . . . 


	2. A Bad Feeling

First of all I would like to thank everyone for their kind reviews! I'm glad that you liked it.

Here is Chapter two . . .

Enjoy:

* * *

The small town wasn't how Sam had pictured it. He was expecting creepy- dingy broken houses, but this place was the exact opposite. There were petite one-story houses, lined up perfectly against the streets, and complimenting the cliché white picket fences.

"I think we warped ourselves into Pleasantville Sammy," Dean told his brother while gazing horrified at the too perfect houses.

This place was giving Sam the heeby-jeeby's, and a warning flag was going off in his head. "Dean . . . I don't know if this was such a great idea. I mean how much do we actually know about this place?"

Dean was snapped out of his reverie and he looked at his brother. "Rambo himself is having second thoughts?" There was no way in hell Dean was going to let his brother get off with this one. For too long he had teased his baby brother for having a bad feeling and this was going to be held over Sam's head for many years to come.

"Shut up Dean, this place feels . . . wrong," Sam really didn't like the vibes he was getting, but he was going to push them down into the depths of his soul. Besides, if the situation presents itself, he'll just let Dean blow whatever they're dealing with to hell. That's how it's always worked in the past, this shouldn't be any different . . . right?

"Look, if you don't want to stay here than we'll just . . ." Dean was cut off by a force slamming into his back. As hard as he tried to regain his balance, he found himself tumbling and then personally met the ground. An 'Oomph' sound left his mouth when the air was driven from his lungs.

"Watch where you're going kid, what the hells wrong with you?" An elderly man growled down at Sam. He shook his cane angrily in the gasping man's face. "Stupid kids have no respect for their elders," the man trotted down the street mumbling.

"Great first impression Dean," Sam complimented as he lifted the ailing Winchester to his feet. He knew Dean hadn't done anything wrong, but he had to get him back for the Rambo crack.

The older Winchester glared down the street at the retreating old man's back. "I didn't even do anything, the senile frugal hit into me.!" Suddenly his cocky attitude came back to life.

"Ah yes . . . reason two why I don't let you drive at night Dean, you get so grouchy in the mornings," Sam just smiled simply as his brother gave him a deathly glare.

"What should we do first? Go meet the wife of the victim from the most recent drowning? Or set up the hotel?" Sam wasn't _that_ tired; he could stave off for a few more hours. It shouldn't be too hard because of the fact that he had been living off of the fewest possible hours of sleep for the past three months.

"We're going to set up the hotel . . . you look like shit Sam and I am not going to be dragging your half dead carcass around this town, I'm going solo." The past few months had been nothing short of miserable, don't get him wrong though. Dean loved spending time with his baby brother; things almost seemed . . . okay, like they used to be. Well, okay being the _**okay­** _for the Winchester's, which wasn't all that great. Only now things were screwed up more than before, if that was even possible.

"I'm fine," Sam insisted. Dean had been babying for as long as he could remember; his over-protectiveness was smothering at times. Though he did sigh with relief when his brother had ordered him to sleep, it was something he secretly wanted to do.

And suddenly that revelation turned his stomach. He could go weeks without sleep, so why now did he yearn for it so badly? As much as Sam hated to admit it, and he definitely wasn't going to mention it again . . . this town was really bothering him.

* * *

After handing one of the many fake credit cards to the hotel clerk, Dean steered his suddenly fatigued brother to their room. "This is it, sweet 212."

Sam scrunched his eyebrows at the two beds; the disgust held in his expression was evident to what the room looked like, "Star-light motel has got to be better than this."

"This is the oldest hotel in the town, it could have some connection to the murders . . . or whatever the thing is," Dean began.

"Dean, we don't even know if these murders are . . . _supernatural, _or if they had anything to do with this towns history," Sam really just wanted to leave, but he felt so tired. He finally just shrugged off his jacket and tossed it to the ground, then plopping down upon the bed.

_The bed was soft; I could just sleep here for tonight and convince Dean to leave tomorrow,_ Sam thought as his eyes slipped shut of their own accord. He was only vaguely aware of his brother whispering, "Sleep well Sammy," before he trudged out the door.

* * *

"Can I help you?" the blond woman asked her voice thick with a southern accent.

Dean smiled deeply, making the woman blush. _God I'm good, _he thought happily. He extended his hand out towards the woman who took it and shook vigorously. "Hello ma'am, I'm Dean Welter, I work with the police force in the next town over," Dean waited for the woman's reaction.

"Call me Yvonne, you work with the Chariot police department? Why would you have any business in 'River Town'?" The woman was suspicious, not exactly the best reaction Dean had hoped for.

"We are teaming up with this towns police force to try and solve the multiple drowning cases . . ." Dean started. The woman didn't look all that traumatized by her husband's death. _Didn't these people know what grieving was? _In fact this woman looked as if she were trying to undress him with her eyes, and normally he would have proudly let her do it. This time though, something in her eyes told him that she wouldn't normally act like that.

"So I assume you're here to ask me about my husband?" the woman was quick, that had to be a good sign. She latched onto Dean's arm and guided him into her house, where she shut the door behind them.

"Yeah, you and your husband got married really young . . . am I correct?" Dean had to pull off this bullshit cop gig to get his answers, so he might as well make it believable.

"Everyone around here gets married young, we were married at the age of 17 . . . and I hated that man, I would have preferred a man with money and a good name under his belt," Yvonne stated like it was nothing to her.

Now this was just downright wrong, and the feeling that something was wrong . . . really wrong had invaded Dean's senses. This place was all wrong; this woman's personality didn't go with where she lived or how she dressed. What the hell was going on?

It was then that he realized he wasn't going to get any useful information out of her. He'd have to go hunt down the other victims' wives and hope they weren't looney-tooney too.

He asked Yvonne a few more questions that might help the brother's in the future and was off to check on his baby brother.

* * *

TBC . . . 


	3. Nightmares

Chapter Two: Ends on a really mean cliffy . . . but what can you do?

Enjoy . ..

* * *

Sam moaned loudly as a dream took hold of his mind. The odd thing was . . . it was different from every other one he had experienced; he didn't even recognize anything he was seeing. If anything, he would guess he was having someone else's dream . . . or nightmare.

"Now Andrew, act like a nice young man, we have to make a good impression," a stout young woman ordered the young boy who was holding Sam's hand in his own.

Sam watched through this other person's eyes as the ten-year-old boy nodded his head, and squeezed his hand tighter.

"You hear that Nathan," Andrew asked as he faced Sam. "You have to be a good boy for me so that mommy doesn't get angry okay?"

Sam felt his head shake up and down in agreement. He had surmised that he was Nathan in this dream, and Andrew was his older brother. The young boy followed his older brother obediently, and they trailed silently behind their mother.

The youngest boy's mouth fell open at the sight in front of him. A huge mansion that was expertly decorated yet seemed more like a warning than a peaceful welcoming place stood out against the big hill it sat upon. "What are we doing here mommy?" the boy asked innocently.

Turning around to face her son, the woman smiled brightly and stroked his cheek. "Hunny, this is going to be our new home," happiness invaded her voice and accentuated her excitement.

The boy stared at his mother in confusion; he had never seen something so . . . nice. They had lived in dumpy houses for all of his life, although he had often heard his mother speaking about her dream to be a nobleman's wife.

"Armond!" the mother chirped, waving her hand frantically in the air.

The boy looked up at his brother who was glaring at the man smiling widely and walking towards the fence that guarded his fortress.

With his eyebrows hunched high in disapproval, the man made his way over to the beaming woman. "Llorona, it is so nice to see you," he looked down at the boys and scowled. "Who are they?"

"I don't believe you've met them Armond, they're my son's . . ." her smiled faded at the look of horror on the man's face. "What is wrong Armond? Now we can live as a true family, me and you will be married in the spring."

"No, no Llorona . . . I do not wish to be the father of another man's children, I did not know you were a mother or I would have never made that mistake," Armond's hands raised high, trying to deflect any miscommunications.

"You told me you loved me," the woman accused.

"That was before I knew you had kids! You lied to me, why didn't you tell me you had children?" Armond spat angrily.

"Armond . . . we can make this work, they are good boy's," she pleaded. She had dreamed for many years of becoming a nobleman's wife, but she had fallen love with a poor ship-hand. Llorona loved him dearly until he passed away a few years ago of small pox, leaving her to raise her two son's Andrew, and Nathan.

"I'm sorry Llorona, but you have to leave," Armond voiced lowly, then flicked his hand disgustedly at them. Shaking his head and turning away, Armond walked up the path that led to his home.

Nathan stood in shock; he had no idea what had just happened. His five-year-old mind couldn't comprehend the look of sheer rage on his mother's face. "What's wrong mommy? Did I do something wrong?"

Llorona shook her head 'no' and grabbed his hand, and began herding the boys back the way they came. Tears fell in steady streams down her face, and she tried to hide her sniffles from her boy's.

"Where're we going?" Andrew asked his mother. He didn't like the impassive look that encompassed her face.

"We're going down to the river hunny, you've always wanted to see it right?" Her voice was heavy with emotion, and that frightened the older boy, but further confused the youngest one.

_Why does mommy want to go to the river? She never wanted to before. His mommy had always told him that it was dangerous and he could fall in and get hurt._

Nathan looked over to his big brother that was white in the face. "Andrew, what's wrong? Is mommy okay?"

* * *

Sam walked numbly along beside Andrew, pursuing the little boy whose body he had invaded. He tried to say something, knowing what the young woman planned on doing to the little boy's. His mouth wouldn't budge, so he mentally screamed out for the boy's to run away.

To his horror he watched as the mother began crying harder when they had reached the river. Sam felt himself go weak when she grabbed his forearm and thrust him into river. He gasped for oxygen when he finally reached the surface, and found that his brother had been thrown in too.

The little boy started crying as his body started dipping under the cold water again, and the panic set in heavily.

It was then that Sam realized that both boys' couldn't swim, they were going to drown. Then fatigue that was now familiar to him pushed into his senses. He grew tired quickly, and barely registered the boys' mother screaming that she was sorry, and that things would be better in heaven with their father.

Slowly, Sam let his eyes slip shut.

* * *

As thenightmare dissipated, Sam's eyes snapped open, and he quickly sat up gasping loudly. He was sweating heavily, and a massive migraine made itself known inside his head. As the minutes passed, Sam finally got his nerve back and he tried desperately to get his eyes to focus on the now dark room. 

A shrill scream brought Sam's attention to the window. There stood the woman from his nightmare, her face was a pallid white, and she moved slowly towards him as if being dead so long had brought her stiff legs to shuddering awareness.

Sam was getting ready to go for his salt-filled-shotgun, but his limbs froze in place on the bed. The panic settled itself in the pit of his stomach as the woman walked closer to him. Now that he could see her clearer, he realized her face was distorted, and she was grinning madly at him.

"Hello my sweet boy," her hoarse voice whispered.

Before Sam could react her hand rested on the side of his face, and it felt as if she was sucking all the warmth from his body. The youngest Winchester couldn't breathe, and his body was freezing cold. He felt his body falling backwards, but was caught by the soft mattress and pillows. Sam's eyes slipped shut when the darkness and cold fully engulfed him.

"It's okay my sweet boy," the woman purred into his ear. "Things will be better . . ." The dead woman smiled wickedly, but was quickly broken from her trance with the young man when she felt his brother coming closer.

She screamed in anger, then disappeared.

* * *

TBC . . . I told you it would end on a mean cliffy . . . so you'll have to stay tuned to see what happens next. Reviews are welcome too. 


	4. Saving Sammy

Okay . .. first off, thanks to everyone for they're kind reviews! And I know that this chapter is kinda short . . . but it's setting up for the next one! So bare with me!

Enjoy . . .

* * *

"Hey Sam, I got us some food from the diner across the street," Dean billowed as he entered the quaint motel room. When Dean didn't get an answer he looked over to the bed, through the dark he could barely make out a still form.

"Come on Sam, you need to wake up and eat, your like a freaking stick," Dean's eyebrow's creased when his baby brother didn't move. Usually Sam was a really light sleeper, and even more so now since Jessica had been . . . killed.

Frowning slightly, Dean trotted over to the light-switch and flipped it upwards. He was still too far away to notice anything amiss with his younger brother. "Sam?" Dean asked. Rolling his eyes clearly annoyed, Dean trudged up to the bed ready to scare the hell out of the unsuspecting man.

As he got closer, her realized that his brother was lying at an odd angle. "Sam wake up . . . Sammy?" His heart leaped into his throat at the sight of Sam.

The young Winchester's face was blue, an awfully pallid blue, almost ghostly. His left arm hung limply off of the bed, and he was face down.

"Oh shit," Dean breathed loudly. His overprotective nature was fighting along side his trained persona. Working like a professional, Dean flipped his brother onto his back and winced at the cold emanating off of him. The older Winchester found that his baby brother's face lips to be a darker shade of blue. He wasn't even breathing.

"Don't do this Sammy," Dean begged. _What the hell happened while I was gone?_ After Dean dragged Sam off of the bed and layed him on the hard flat floor, he expertly tilted Sam's head back and proceeded to breathe forcefully into the unwilling lungs. After counting to five he began thrusting his palms into Sam's chest.

It took an extremely long ten minutes to get Sam breathing again, and Dean was left to wonder if his baby brother would have brain damage.

Carefully the older brother sat Sam up and pulled him against his chest and rubbed soothing circles on his brother's back as he let out hacking coughs. "Can you hear me Sammy?" Dean asked breathlessly. A small grunt answered him.

Yet again, Dean's heart plummeted when he felt Sam go lax within his arms. He was unwittingly spurred into action. As carefully as Dean could permit, he lifted his baby brother into his arms and quickly made his way to the bathroom.

After setting the youngest Winchester on the floor, Dean rushed to the bathtub and turned on the tap. He let out a worried sigh as the warm water started filling the porcelain tub.

"Sam?" Dean questioned as he lightly smacked the young man's cheek. No answer. "What mess did you get into now Sammy?" Dean mumbled as he lifted his brother into the warm water. He winced slightly when Sam recoiled at the warmth.

Finally Sam settled into the water with a soft sigh. "That's it Sammy, get warm . . . then wake up and tell me what the hell you did this time," Dean joked to the unconscious man.

Sam always seemed to get into deep shit. Although Dean couldn't really run his mouth about that, cause he did it just as much. That was the good thing about having a brother, whenever something got too hot and heavy a brother would be right there fighting beside the other.

Dean got on his knees and grabbed his baby brother's unusually cold and lax hand then squeezed it in his own. If Sam were ever taken out of the equation, he'd just lose it. He'd forget the hunting; he'd forget his dad . . . he'd just rot.

"You can't go doing crap like this Sammy," Dean muttered as he put his head down on the corner of the tub. "I can't lose you, not now, not ever. We're a team, and I refuse to do this solo . . . ever." It was out of Dean's nature to spill his guts out, but he'd come closer than he'd ever had to losing his brother tonight. He hadn't even been breathing.

Suddenly, a twitch in the hand Dean was holding made him shoot his head up. There smiled his baby brother. "Your such a pussy," he whispered. "But your last statement goes for me too," and with that, Sam closed his eyes.

Dean smiled and spoke softly, "That's right Sammy, we're a team, with or without dad."

* * *

TBC . . . 


	5. Sleep Tight

Hello everyone, I'm soooo sorry for the long delay. I hope you will all forgive me . . . and believe me the next chapter will be along shortly as well!

Enjoy:

* * *

"Okay Sammy, what the hell happened while I was gone? And just so you know, you no longer have permission to stay in any hotel alone ever again," Dean told him, then grinned as Sam looked at him with those big pleading puppy dog eyes.

"Dean . . . I don't know what the hell is going on," he paused, trying to collect all of the thoughts from his muddled mind. "I had this weird dream . . . and I was in some little boy's body . . ."

Dean sighed deeply as Sam replayed the dream and the events afterward to him. "So your saying Casper actually showed her ugly face after you had the dream about her drowning you . . . I mean the little kids?"

"No Dean, I made the entire story up and stopped breathing for shits and giggles!" Sam exclaimed as he popped a few painkillers in his mouth and swallowed them dry. "Can we please just drop it now?"

Dean shook his head. "I'm afraid not baby brother, you nearly died on me tonight . . . maybe we should just drop the case and leave town. After all, neither of us has ever been singled out by a spirit like this."

Sam groaned at let himself fall back into the comfort of the musty hotel bed. "I've never been to this town before, so why would the ghost decide to choose me to . . . kill me next?"

The older Winchester winced at the thought of yet another ghost trying to kill his little brother. "Maybe you have a different kind of connection to all of this . . . maybe your dreams are the connection, or maybe the ghost has some creepy attachment to you . . ." Dean yelped as the pillow Sam threw at him with perfect aim causing him to tumble from his own bed.

"Oh did I hurt your feelings Sammy?" Dean cooed sarcastically from his spot on the ground. He slowly clambered to his feet and made his way towards the window where he pulled the curtain away and gazed down at his Chevy Impala. "She came through this window Sammy?"

"It's Sam," an extremely groggy voice whined from the bed. "Dean I almost drowned tonight . . . we're not dropping this case and I'll come with you to check out all the other victim's wives tomorrow okay? Just have a heart and let me _sleep_!" Sam told him, both wanting to fall asleep and stay awake to avoid any memories all at the same time.

Groaning loudly, Dean let his head fall forward onto the plate glass window. "Fine, but just so you know, you'll be answering all of these questions again in the morning."

"Aren't you gonna go to sleep?" The now slurred voice asked. Sam snuggled into the thin sheets on the bed and let his face droop comfortably onto the flat pillow. He already knew Dean would stay up and make sure whatever was here earlier wouldn't try to hurt him again. Dean had been protecting him for as long as he could remember, this time wasn't any different.

"Maybe I will later Sammy, I'm just gonna stay up for a while and . . . do some research on this town," Dean lied, knowing that the night ahead wasn't going to be pleasant. He had a feeling Sam would be having night tremors and he'd have to be here incase any of them were connected to Casper. Secretly Dean just wanted to make sure that the freaky ghost wouldn't decide to pay another visit to his brother.

* * *

The night went on and no sign of the ghost had shown. Dean had had to wake Sam up a few times after he had been thrashing and mumbling in his sleep.

So now Dean sat and kept his eyes trained on the window and his entire body tuned to the essence of the room, he'd know if any ghost entered here. The hours bore on, and the older brother couldn't help but to let his eyes gracefully fall down to his cheeks. He had fallen asleep.

* * *

"_Sammy . . . Sammy . . . Sammy_," the cold voice whispered into the night air.

Sam Winchester gasped, his eyes snapping open and his body jolting up into a sitting position. Blearily he looked around the room, his eyes slowly coming into focus. His eyebrows raised when his eyes landed on his sleeping older brother.

"So much for keeping guard," he mumbled, settling himself back down onto the bed. He realized the more blankets were pilled on him than before. _Dean must have covered me with them while I was sleeping_, he thought. His brother was always doing stuff like that; checking up on him, making sure he ate right . . . well ate anyway.

"_Sammy . . . Sammy . . . Sammy_," the voice whispered again, only this time getting the attention of the youngest Winchester.

Panic consumed Sam as he bolted upright again and snapped his head back and forth trying to find the source of the voice that was calling to him. "What do you want?" he asked, his voice nothing more than a harsh whisper.

"_My sweet boy_," the voice called out again. Suddenly the form of the woman from earlier appeared next to the bed Sam was occupying.

Sam was about to call out to his brother when her hand placed itself over his mouth. Sam could instantly feel the coldness as her dead, cold skin made contact with his own warmth. Then he felt another hand being placed behind his head.

The youngest Winchester tried to fight off the hands that held him in that awkward position, but when he tried to push the hands away, his own went right through the others. The earlier feeling of being drained of warmth was back and the comforting feeling of the heat was being replaced with the bitter cold.

"Mmmm," Sam groaned, the sound muffled by the intruding object over his face.

"_You're my sweet boy_," She whispered in his ear.

Suddenly Sam felt the sensation of floating and he realized that he was being carried. He couldn't help but be astounded as the spirit carried him with such ease. Then suddenly the hand over his mouth was gone, but the coldness still lingered.

With a sudden burst of energy, Sam lashed out, hitting a lamp on a table near the door he was being carried out of.

Dean was immediately on alert. When his eyes landed on the ugly ghost, his hand searched for the shotgun that had been positioned at his side for an incident just like this one. "Put him down," he ordered, not really knowing if the ghost could comprehend what he had just asked.

The ghost sneered at him and looked down at the younger Winchester who was now lying limp within her dead, purple arms. "_He's my sweet boy_," she whispered, her voice hoarse from being dead for so long.

"Put him down," Dean yelled this time, not caring if the other occupants of the motel could hear him. When the ghost did not heed the second time, Dean shot a round of rock salt into the ghost.

She instantly cried out in pain and dropped Sam onto the ground, disappearing into the night.

Dean's brow furrowed as he could vaguely hear the ghost whispering, "_I am Llorona, he is mine_." He ignored that for now and rushed over to his baby brother, guilt consuming him for falling asleep. "Sammy?" he asked hesitantly.

A soft grunt answered him and brown eyes opened to catch his in a staring contest. "Looks like it doesn't even matter if I'm in a motel room by myself," Sam whispered. "You're acrappy bodyguard by the way."

Dean rolled his eyes and helped Sam to his feet. "Funny you should say that Sam. Besides, I'm not the one with a spirit trying to . . . do whatever that spirit was trying to do to you."

"I don't get it. This wasn't like the last time, I didn't feel as drained or as cold," Sam muttered from his place on the floor. He shivered slightly, looking up at his brother.

"Well your lips are blue and so is the rest of your body . . . your freezing," Dean informed him pulling Sam to his feet and supporting his weight as he half-dragged, half-carried his brother to his bed. After piling the numerous blankets on his brother he looked at the clock that sat on the nightstand.

_4:27 a.m._ "There isn't any chance of getting you back to bed is there?" Dean asked with a half-smile.

"Nope," Sam told him, sitting up then placing the laptop on his thighs.

"Thought so," Dean mumbled. He took the laptop from his brother and ignored his whines and protests as he did so. "When she left, she said her name was Llorona and that you were hers . . . I'd say you're the next victim Sammy."

When Sam didn't reply or protest to the pet name, Dean looked over to find his brother fast asleep. "You need to quit doing that Sammy," Dean whispered as he started googeling the name 'Llorona'.

* * *

TBC . . . I hope you liked it!


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